Bandaids on Broken Hearts
by teabean
Summary: Tragedy leaves Rory adrift, only a return to her past can save her, but will those from her past want to help her given that they too are hurting. Trogan.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure they'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, on organic chemistry.

**Summary:** Tragedy strikes, leaving Rory adrift. The only thing that can save her is a return to her past, but will those from her past want to save her? After all, everyone has hidden scars… Trogan (do I do anything else!)

Chapter 1 

It was hours since her alarm clock had gone off and it was even longer since she had woken up from her fitful sleep. She could imagine what her grandmother would say if she saw her. She would probably demand to know why her granddaughter was still in bed, still in her pyjamas, her hair a stringy mess, dark circles under her eyes.

She didn't know which was greater, the hollowness in her body or the hollowness in the heart. Her mind, like her body, moved sluggishly, where once it had been quick witted she could barely form a thought.

Inhaling deeply, she moved toward the bathroom, slowly she opened the faucet and cupped her hands in the flow of the fast running water. She splashed the lukewarm water on her face, more out of habit than any great need to wake herself up.

The feeling of cool metal against her cheek caused her to retract her hands quickly. She stared at her hands like they were foreign entities, her eyes were drawn to the slender white gold band on her left hand. Closing her eyes, she could feel tears welling up behind her eyelids.

"No," she murmured silently.

When would the tears stop?

--

She stood there on a train platform at Grand Central Station, people hurried around her, buffeting her body. The hiss and woosh of trains coming and going filled her ears and her mind until that was all she could hear. She couldn't remember which train she was supposed to catch, it was more instinctive than that. A train would arrive, the train she was supposed to get on to take to where she was supposed to go, and her feet would know.

"Are you all right?" someone asked her in a gentle, warm voice.

She turned her head just enough for the speaker to appear in her vision. An elderly man with a saxophone in hand stared at her with concerned expression.

"I'm fine," she replied without thinking, it was her standard reply.

"Perhaps I can play you something?" he persisted, waving the saxophone slightly for emphasis.

"Oh, I don't know," she answered with a polite half-smile.

He continued to stare at her expectantly.

"Um, I don't mind, anything," she said reluctantly, unused to being subject to this kind of attention.

"Suit yourself," the man shrugged.

He took up his position, took a breath and started playing a tune. A bright happy tune. It took her a second to realise what he was playing, 'Don't Worry, Be Happy' and a rare smile graced her lips.

A train pulled up and instinctively her feet stepped forward, this was her train. She had no change for the busker, instead, on an impulse, she slipped the white gold band off her finger and dropped into the hat in front of the old man.

"God bless you," he said when the ring landed amongst the coins and notes with a 'clink'.

She boarded the train, glancing back at the saxophonist, she found he was still staring at the spot she had being standing. It was then she realised he was blind.

--

"Rory!" someone greeted her, Stacy Rakin, the receptionist who had been there the day she had started work at the firm, "How are you doing, honey?"

Would people stop asking her!

"I'm fine," she gave a tight smile.

She ignored the rest of her co-workers, giving them automatic greetings, they all asked the same questions anyway.

"Gilmore?" Mitchell Stanley, her boss, booming voice, beer-belly, Giants fan, "What the hell are you doing back? You're not supposed to be back for two more weeks."

"I couldn't sit around doing nothing any more," she was thankful he didn't ask her how she was doing.

"Well what I wouldn't do to be doing nothing," he sighed, not realising the irony of his statement.

"Anything for me?" she asked, desperate for something to do, but hoping all the same there was nothing.

"Nothing much, actually, slow news day," he shrugged.

She relaxed a little inside.

"Okay, well, I'll head over to my office."

"Yeah, check you're emails, check out the new coffee machine," Mitchell nodded.

"There's a new one?"

"Yup, just this week."

"That I gotta see."

"Good, good," Mitchell nodded absently, heading to his office.

--

She was back at Grand Central Station, having disembarked from her train after only an hour at work. The emails were all the same, 'How are you doing?', in fact the new coffee machine had held her interest longer. She loitered, not wanting to go to her apartment yet, there was nothing soothing about it's cold emptiness. Automatically, her fingers reached to fiddle with the white gold band, only to find it missing. The blind saxophonist. A sudden urge propelled her forward and she rushed to the platform she had been standing on that very morning. Desperately she searched for the busker, but he was gone.

"No," she whispered softly, her knees buckling, "No, no, no…"

"Ma'am?" someone was speaking to her, but she ignored them, "Ma'am, are you alright?"

"No, no, no, no…"

"Ma'am, is something wrong?" the person persisted.

"I need to go home," she whispered, finally looking up, two station workers stood over her, concern apparent on their faces.

"Okay, where is your home?"

"It's…" she had no idea who to respond, the apartment wasn't home, it hadn't been in a long time, maybe it had never been.

"Ma'am?"

"Stars Hollow," she answered finally, her voice regaining its strength, "Stars Hollow, Connecticut."

--

AN: Another new story, I'm on a bit of roll! We'll see where this one goes. Review, pretty please.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure they'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, on organic chemistry.

AN: I seem to specialise in sad stories and for that I'm sorry, but I can't resist reading a tear-jerker and I think my subconscious is trying to tell me something through what pours onto my screen.

Rish: Thanks darling. Hope you're still interested.

Photoboothromance: Thank you for reading and reviewing.

Ali: Well, thanks for reviewing. Sorry for taking forever to update.

Mrmp: I'd love to throw you bone, but unfortunately you're going to have to take a new chapter instead. Thanks for reading and sorry about the delay.

LoVe23: I'm updating, but sorry about the delay. Hope you still want to know what's happened. Can't reveal too much yet. Thanks for reading.

Fallen Heart: Just between you and me, I'm not entirely sure where I'm taking this either, I mean I have some idea, but… Anyway thank you for reading, sorry about the delay in updating.

Troryforever: Thanks for reading and reviewing. I apologise for the delay, but hope you're still interested.

**Chapter 2**

Her movements were slow and robotic as she boarded a train bound for Stars Hollow. The station workers had helped her purchase a ticket before accompanying her to the appropriate platform, all the while they murmured soothing words, and somehow she made it on to the train without any further hitches. It wasn't until the train pulled away from the station, with her on board the third carriage, middle window seat, that the tears arrived once more. Frustrated and annoyed, she tried to brush the salty droplets away with her hands, but it was futile. For each tear she brushed away, another three slipped from her eyes.

"Here," a fellow passenger pressed a pristine white handkerchief into her hand.

She stared at the bright, white cloth.

"Don't worry, it's perfectly clean," the stranger assured her.

First the blind saxophonist, the two station workers and then the kind passenger. This was the third act of seemingly random kindness from strangers, all on the same day.

"Thank you," she whispered meekly, dabbing at the tears.

"You're welcome," the gentle smile apparent in his voice, "It wouldn't be proper to let a beautiful lady cry."

After she managed to stem the flow of tears, she stared at the now damp handkerchief in her hands.

"Keep it," the stranger said, as if sensing her confusion.

"Thanks," she said again, this time with a little more confidence.

Carefully, she folded the handkerchief into a small square only to discover the owner's initials embroidered in gold on one corner. 'T. J. d G.'

"So, would it be rude of me to ask what caused you to be so upset?" his voice was warm and inviting, but cautious all the same.

"I…" she stopped, unsure of how to respond.

Everyone who knew her, knew what had happened, with varying degrees of truth. No one had asked her specifically what had happened, usually she would start to explain and their immediate reactions to her first sentence would steam roll right over her. Why would a stranger care?

"You know what? It is rude of me to ask," he shook his head slightly.

"No, it's not that – " she felt a sudden need to apologise to him, but her cut her off quickly.

"No, really, I'm sorry," he flashed her an apologetic smile, but because she still had not looked up, she missed it.

Their short conversation stopped then and she wished she could wrench it back on track. She had nothing, but her purse with her and its contents wasn't particularly inspiring. The last thing she wanted was to be left alone with her thoughts, that would only lead to more tears.

"Where are you headed?" she asked, her voice wavered slightly as if she hadn't used it in while.

"Hartford," her fellow passenger replied without missing a bit, as if there had never been a lull in their conversation, "You?"

"Stars Hollow," she answered.

"That's that town about half an hour out of Hartford, right? There's like only one set of traffic lights in it."

"Ye-ah," she was taken aback by his knowledge of her home town, "Have you ever been there?"

"Yeah, a long time ago," he nodded, "It feels like a lifetime ago."

"There are two sets of traffic lights, now," she informed him.

"Ahh, the way the time changes everything," his tone was warm and filled with genuine humour, "I should visit some time, see what else has changed. Maybe you could give me a tour."

"I'd like that," she blurted out, before she couldn't comprehend what she was saying, she could feel the blood rush to her cheeks.

"Well that's settled, then," he nodded slightly, she caught the movement in her peripheral vision and she finally looked up.

Her travel companion was a man who looked to be in his mid-twenties, blonde hair cut much like a regulation military style. In fact his build was a lot like someone who would be in the armed forces, except for his well-cut suit, pinstripe and expensive. His face looked youthful, a boyish expression, soft blue eyes, unprejudiced and open.

"How will you find me?" she asked and then she wanted to slap herself.

What kind of stupid question was that? If they were serious in their plans, surely they would exchange names and numbers.

"A beautiful lady like yourself? I doubt it will be difficult," he grinned.

Coming from someone else, his response would have sent alarm bells ringing in her head. The New Yorker in her went on stalker-alert, but somehow she felt an instant, comforting connection with this seemingly perfect stranger.

"Question is, would you remember me?" he grinned before giving her his best impression of puppy dog eyes.

"With eyes like those, how can I forget?" she couldn't help but smile back, the muscles in her cheeks almost sang with pleasure as her lips curved into a full grin, they had spent too much time turned down in a grim frown.

"So you like my eyes," his lips twisted into a playful smirk, his expression was like a little kid who had been given the biggest piece of chocolate cake, innocence.

"Maybe this is bad idea," she tried to look regretful, but the look of absolute rejection in his eyes, his cake denied, was too much, "I'm kidding."

"Oh, thank God," he sighed melodramatically, "The thought of rejection… unbearable."

"I haven't felt this good in ages," she revealed, as a feeling resembling contentment bubbled in her heart.

"I have a knack for making people feel good," her fellow traveller smiled, his response could be misconstrued for arrogance, but she could not shake the image of a little boy and his cake.

"I bet you do," she replied quietly.

A disembodied voice announced that Hartford was the next station and she and her new friend gathered himself to disembark the train. As they got off, he was the perfect gentleman, opening doors for her, letting her pass in front of him, hailing a taxi for her. It wasn't until she in the taxi and he, a mere speck in the rear window that she realised she didn't know his name. She slipped her hands into her coat pockets, wrapping the heavy wool around her body, her mind conjuring up what could have been. Her fingers brushed against a square of soft material, taking it out, she traced the initials. T. J. d G. Who are you?

--

AN: I bet you have more questions after reading this chapter, hit me with them! Tell me what you think. But if you haven't been inspired/moved/bored into reviewing, here's a little question from me: In a fight, who would win, Logan or Dean? Logan doesn't exactly come across as athletic, but I imagine Dean would be a swing-and-miss kind of guy.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure they'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, on organic chemistry.

Rish: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Glad you enjoyed it.

Photobooth romance: Well I'm sorry I can't confirm anything yet, but thanks for reading and reviewing anyway.

LoVe23: Lots of questions! Don't worry I love questions. Can't say exactly when you'll find out what happened, it'll probably come out over a couple of chapters. Yes, she'll see Tristan again.

Danger1Zone1988: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you like this chapter.

FairyGirl07: Yes, Rory and Tristan did go to school together, more will be revealed soon. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Mamashirl: I'll try to reveal more details to avoid confusion soon. Thanks for reading and reviewing, despite the haziness of my story.

Mrmp: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you like this chapter too.

Sparxx27: Ohh, someone who likes the mystery! Thanks! And I love that you put a lot of thought into answering my random question. Hope you like this chapter.

Ess3andra: Firstly, Rory doesn't recognise Tristan for several reasons, I can't reveal them all right now, but it has been a while since Chilton and she's pretty upset so it wouldn't have come to mind straight away. Secondly my penname, it's a bit of a long story, but basically, the first GG story I wrote was titled 'Tea bean, coffee leaf', so when I had to pick a name, I shortened the title. And no, I won't ever post 'Tea bean, coffee leaf' it's for experimental purposes only!

Fallen Heart: This is probably a stupid question, but what does 'LMAO' mean? Thanks for reading and reviewing.

:D: I love your reasoning! And thank you for your lovely review.

PDLD-LIT-TRORY-ELIXER-OF-LIFE-LOVER: Boy, that's a long name! Thank you for your review. I think everyone's questions will be resolved soon, sorry if I'm being too mysterious.

GGluvr1987: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you like this chapter.

SonnyCarlyJasonCourtney: Thanks for reading and reviewing.

Joellekyle0712: Thanks, darling. And I'm continuing, but I guess you already know that!

I die without you: Yes, Rory and Tristan did go to Chilton, more explanation in coming chapters. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

**Chapter 3**

The taxi neared a large sign and Rory took a deep breath.

"Stop here," Rory directed the taxi driver.

"Here?" he frowned, slowing the car, "On the side of a highway?"

"Yeah, I think I'll walk the rest," Rory nodded.

"Okay, if you're sure," the taxi driver shrugged, checking the meter, "That'll be twenty-six, forty."

"Keep the change," she said as she handed him thirty dollars.

Getting out of the car, Rory stood facing the Welcome to Stars Hollow sign, taking a deep breath, she took one step forward, she was going home.

How many years had she travelled back and forth along this very road? Each tree, each subtle curve of the road, each reflective road marker seemed to be embedded in her memory, most attached to a story or event in her childhood. Before she knew it, she was on the outskirts of the town itself, development had not bypassed Stars Hollow completely, she could see the beginnings of urban sprawl taking effect.

Block after block of land had been cleared of natural forest, replaced with real-estate signs loudly proclaiming 'breath-taking views', 'close to schools and shops' and strings of abbreviations only people who wrote them seem to understand. Half the signs had been plastered over with the word 'SOLD'. She clutched her jacket closer to her, as if trying to keep the people from selling her off too.

The first familiar landmark she passed was the bus stop, the old wooden garden seat had been replaced by a much more modern metal-and-glass shelter. An electronic panel stood in place of the 'please hail bus' sign, the time of the next bus light up brightly against the otherwise dark screen. Still some things did not change as a young couple bid farewell to each other as the bus approached and the young boy boarded it, the girl waved after him until the bus was long gone.

Al's Pancake Parlour had been replaced with Al Junior's Pancake Parlour, but last Rory had heard, the fare had not changed nor the ill-effects on unsuspecting customers' gastro-intestinal systems. The gazebo stood proud as ever in the centre of town, looking its finest with a fresh coat of white paint.

She turned a slow circle, taking in each familiar building. Doose's, the church, the bookshop, Mrs Kim's Antiques, the high school, Taylor's Ye Olde Soda Shoppe and beside it was Luke's. A lump mysteriously found its way into her throat. Even at this distance, she could see a woman seated at the counter. A rotund crimson mug in one hand, the other hand danced freely through the air as she related a very embellished tale to a man behind the counter, who listened to the woman with a mixture of annoyance and love in his face.

Abruptly the woman stopped and began to turn. Rory froze, not wanting to be caught, but the woman didn't turn completely, only to the figure beside her and Rory's heart broke a little. Seated beside the woman was a little brunette boy, not quite tall enough rest his arms on the counter, his expression was impish and Rory could see concealed behind his back, he held a muffin. The boy and the woman exchanged a wink, which the man behind the counter pretended not to see as he restocked the muffins on display near the little boy.

What was she doing here? She couldn't be here. This place was no longer home. Coming here was the worst thing she could do. Turning away, furious with herself, she started to walk back the way she had come. Quietly, she prayed that she would not be recognised and that no one would ever know she had made another mistake.

She huddled in the bus shelter, the time blinked another fourteen minutes to the next bus. Fourteen minutes and then thirty minutes to Hartford railway station, that's forty-four minutes and she could pretend this little outing had never happened. Thirteen minutes. The advertisement that made up one side of the bus shelter was for the upcoming Stars Hollow High School Play, Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. Twelve minutes.

"Rory?" the voice was brisk and distinct and brought back all kinds of memories, mostly involving rescuing her bestfriend from awkward dates with future doctors and lawyers.

"Mrs Kim," she forced a smile, not that she wasn't happy to see the older woman, it was the timing that was off.

"What are you doing here?" Mrs Kim asked, lifting a hand to indicate the bus shelter.

"Waiting for a bus."

"I can see that," Miss Kim frowned, "I want to know why."

"I'm going to Hartford."

"So you came to visit Stars Hollow?"

"Sort of," Rory replied vaguely, "Yes."

"But you didn't visit me?"

"I'm sorry."

"I made you promise last time."

"I know, Mrs Kim. And I'm very sorry, I just – "

"Did you visit your mother?"

Rory sighed, there was no way to get out of it now.

"No, no I didn't visit my mother."

"Why not?"

"It's just – "

"Your mother has missed you."

"She has?" she didn't mean to sound so surprised, but after seeing Lorelai, Luke and their son, she could only imagine that her mother's life was happy now.

"Very much," Mrs Kim nodded, "I know. I miss Lane."

"How is Lane?"

"Good, thank you. She and Henry are doing very well. I should thank you for that. They're in Korea at the moment, on a holiday."

"I just did what any friend would have done."

"You should stay, longer."

"I can't."

"But you haven't visited in so long."

"I know, it's just…" she couldn't help it, but her eyes drifted towards Luke's.

Luke had turned his back and Lorelai was letting the boy sneak sips of coffee from her mug.

"You want to stay, but something is holding you back," Mrs Kim guessed seeing the wistful expression on Rory's face.

"I don't have anywhere to stay," she admitted.

She couldn't exactly appear on her mother's doorstep and demand a bed for the night and staying at the Dragonfly meant an encounter would be inevitable and awkward.

"You can stay in Lane's old room," Mrs Kim suggested.

"I shouldn't impose."

"Certainly not. Lane would want you to stay there."

"In that case, I'd really appreciate it, Mrs Kim."

"Good, that's settled then," Mrs Kim nodded with finality and together they walked to Mrs Kim's Antiques.

--

**AN:** I couldn't remember the exact locations of various landmarks in Stars Hollow, so if anything is out of place, sorry. Also I have to plug a new story I'm starting, it's an original story called 'The Daily Rant', it's a bit of drama/romance/humour. It's on Fiction Press and my penname is teabean85, please check it out and tell me what you think. Thanks.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Gilmore Girls, actors, characters, plots, etc, that would be the wonderful people at WB. Although if I did, I'm pretty sure they'd be some big changes coughChadcough. Anyway if you do feel inclined to sue me, some people have strange urges and we must accept them for who they are, I'm currently flat broke so all you will get is a used textbook, on organic chemistry.

**AN:** Thank you to everyone who read/reads this, but special thanks to my reviewers:

FairyGirl07

Rish

Mrmp

Tonje

TVHollywoodDiva

Lifeisconfusing

Fallen Heart: thanks for the reply to my slightly blonde question

GGluvr1987

LoVe23

**Chapter 4**

The house looked the same, yet different and she couldn't help but feel cheated. The place had been given a lick of paint and the garden looked loved and well tended. This was her home, the place that held all her childhood memories, but she felt like she was trespassing, just standing on the front porch. The muffled sounds of bare feet stomping on floorboards reached her ears, laughter and muffled voices followed.

Pull yourself together, she ordered herself, you can't run away forever. Mustering all her courage, she reached down to the doorknob, excepting it to twist open, unlocked as always, but it did not budge. No one locked their doors in Stars Hollow, or at least they didn't. She stared at the door, a lump forming in the back of her throat, she didn't have keys with her, she couldn't get into her own home.

The glint of gold in the morning sun caught her eye. A doorbell. The words, 'Gilmore-Danes' engraved neatly below it. Lifting a hand, zombie-like, she pressed lightly on the button and like a polyphonic ring tone, the 'Oompa-Lompa' song rang out. Tears pressed against the inside of her eyelids. Oh please, not the tears, she begged.

From inside the house, the thunder of footsteps grew.

"I'll get it," a childish voice called.

"I'm going to beat you," another voice, a woman, laughed.

"No, I'm faster!" exclaimed the first voice.

She could hear someone skid into the front door and before she knew it, the door was whipped open by a small boy, who stared wide-eyed up at her.

"Hello and welcome to the Gilmore-Danes House of Spa– "

A hand appeared, muffling the boy's greeting.

"Eh, sorry about that," a woman appeared in the doorway behind the boy, gazing down at him sternly, she looked flushed, "Can I help you?"

Rory stared, a little in shock, waiting for the recognition to hit the woman.

"Mum?" she whispered finally, the woman started, the boy's eyes grew wider.

"What are you doing here?" realisation finally dawned on the woman, the question came out quiet and suspicious.

"I need…" Rory began, but she trailed away.

What did she need? So many, too many things. Where to begin?

"You need what?" Lorelai demanded, her voice rising, anger filling her eyes.

"I – I don't know."

She stared at her mother, willing her mother to see the need in her daughter's eyes. Didn't the experts say that there was an invisible and inexplicable connection, between mothers and they children. That mothers always knew when their children when were in pain. Lorelai stared back, her gaze cool and guarded. Rory swallowed hard, had the distance between them grown too far?

"Mummy?" the little boy's voice broke through the tension, "Mummy?"

"Darling, why don't you go inside?" Lorelai's voice softened, squatting to be eyelevel with the boy, she gazed tenderly at him.

"What about the movie?" he asked.

"This won't take a minute," Lorelai didn't even glance at Rory, directing all her attention to the boy, "Why don't you go get started on the popcorn?"

The boy bounced off in the direction of the living room leaving the two women alone.

"He's grown so much," Rory murmured.

"I suppose he has," Lorelai granted her, "Seeing as the last time you saw him, he was a newborn."

Guilt overflowed inside her. Had it really been that long since she had seen her mother?

"I'm here now," she whispered.

"Apparently," Lorelai answered.

"I'm sorry."

"It might be too late."

"I'm trying," she pleaded.

"And you're certainly taking your time."

"You have no idea how hard this is."

"Because it was a breeze hearing my own daughter tell me I failed her," Lorelai scoffed, she stepped back slightly, her hand reaching for the door.

"No," Rory begged, "I need… you."

"Now you need me?" Lorelai laughed harshly, "Maybe you're right. I did fail you as a mother. I let you believe that you are the most important person in the world, that it is alright for you to hurt everyone again and again and again. That after everything you've put me through, I would still drop everything when _you_ need me."

"I'm sorry," Rory repeated, "I've got nowhere else to go. No one else."

"What about your dream husband? Where is he now?" Lorelai demanded, "Oh that's right, he is staying at a fancy resort in the Swiss Alps."

"Logan loves me!" Rory exclaimed defensively.

"That's why he took his entire family… except you," Lorelai replied, "What a catch."

"Logan needs time – "

"Oh don't defend him, I'm not interested," Lorelai shook her head, "And I've no interest in continuing this 'conversation' with you."

"Mum – " Rory began, but Lorelai shut the door anyway.

And then the tears came, blurring her vision of the cream, wood-panelled door with its bright gold doorbell. Turning, she fled her childhood home, he safe haven. She stumbled blindly, not caring who saw her and what they might think. Familiar landmarks brushed her peripheral vision as she passed them and each reignited memories of happier times. Finally, as she reached a secluded, wooded area, she found a spot that didn't send her mind reeling back into the past.

A small footbridge over a lake, ducks quacked as the glided over the murky water beneath her; there would be waterlilies in the summer. Sitting on the edge of the bridge, feet dangling over the edge, she waited until the tears subsided. She shouldn't have come back.

"Miss, can you help me? I'm here to see a lady about a tour?"

Her heart jumped at the voice and she turned warily.

"You?" she looked up in surprise at the blue eyes that had warmed her heart.

The man from the train.

"Yes, me," he grinned boyishly as he sat down next to her.

"You surprised me," Rory admitted.

"Yes, well, I sometimes surprise myself," his grin widened.

"And you found me," she hated how redundant she sounded.

"Apparently I did."

Where had her wit gone? Not long ago, she would have had a hundred intelligent, amusing things to say, but not any more.

"Rain check on the tour?" he asked, sensing her sadness.

"You don't have to do that," Rory shook her head slightly, trying to force the sad thoughts out of her mind, " I don't mind really."

"This town hasn't really changed much. I pretty much saw everything on the way in."

"And the new traffic lights?" Rory asked, remembering their conversation on the train.

"Reds at both and not a pedestrian in sight."

"So what do you want to do?" Rory asked.

"Well, how do you like your coffee beans?"

Rory's brow creased, unsure of what he meant.

"If anything in the world is going to cheer you up, it would have to be coffee."

"How do you know that?"

"It's a well known fact that Gilmore girls love their coffee."

"Wait, how did you know I'm a Gilmore?"

"I am a man knowledgable in many things," he replied cryptically with a magician's smile, "Let me astound you further with my great mind."

"Please."

"Your first boyfriend was Dean Forrester," her eyes widened with surprise as he spoke, "You went to Chilton, where you met Paris Gellar, who was your room-mate at Yale. And it was at Yale where you met Logan Huntzberger, your husband. So your name is Lorelai Leigh Gilmore-Huntzberger, but you go by Rory."

"And how do you know all this? I mean, how do you know _me_?"

"Your nickname is Ace, but it was once was Mary," he flashed her another cryptic smile.

"Tristan?" Rory asked, recognition finally dawning on her.

"The one and only," he replied with a grin tipping an imaginary hat, "Miss me?"

"I don't know what to say."

"Good grief, I've made you speechless! There was a time I would have paid good money to see that, even better to be the cause of it."

"I'm terribly sorry I didn't remember you. Please forgive me."

"It's an unusual situation, but I'm sure I can make an exception, just this once," he winked playfully.

"Did you know who I was on the train?"

"No," he shook his head slightly, "It has been over ten years since I left Chilton. But later that day, I remembered another time when a beautiful girl had cried in my presence and she looked an awful lot like the lady, you, on the train."

"And you find me once again, crying," Rory smiled sadly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tristan asked carefully.

"No, not really," she shook head slightly, "It's just too complicated."

"Well if you ever want to talk about whatever it is that is too complicated, I'm all ears," he said with a gently smile.

"Thanks," she returned his smile with a grateful one.

"You're welcome."

"Do you mind if we just sit here?" Rory asked after a minute, "I'd like the company."

"Sure," Tristan nodded.

He made a show of making himself comfortable, adjusting his coat, shifting about. Rory hid a smile watching him, realising it was all just for show and all for her.

"I'm ready now," Tristan grinned, before turning to study the ducks gliding below them.

"I hope I'll be ready one day too," Rory whispered to herself.

If Tristan heard her, he pretended not to and for that she was glad.

--


End file.
